Legends of Tamriel: Tales of the World
by Darkviper09
Summary: A collection of short stories and scenes from across Tamriel. Everybody in Tamriel has a story to tell, be it friendly innkeeper to fierce Nord Warriors. Please rate your favorite short story and I will make more using the character. Feedback is much appreciated and wanted!
1. Fire's Of Destiny

****Shrouded in mystery and the shadow of his cloak. Tiaane is guided by the hand of fate to every destination.****

 ** **Fires of Destiny****

The camp-fire crackled sharply in the moonlight night. The small hum of light In a night as black as this was all Tiaane needed to stir his pot of chicken stew. How fortunate he was to have found the camp not long since abandoned, and even more fortunate he was when a chicken came clucking by his campsite not a moment later. The hands of fate had truly smiled upon him tonight as he looked up towards the green lights that flew over Skyrim's skyline. Moving in a line, dancing majestically like the dragons of old... Well, not so old.

The rustling of nearby bushes In the night finally made him regain attention as he glanced at the pitch surroundings noticing movement from all sides. Clutching his staff, Tiaane readied a dagger under his sleeve... Just in case. The noises stopped, dead silence filled the air. Tiaane glanced back at his pot, bubbling against the fire.

"Smells good, a recipe of your own?" An unfamiliar voice called, as a tall bearded Nord man approached the camp. Smiling as he approached slowly Into the fire's filed of view, hands raised as a gesture of no trouble.

As Tiaane turned, more approached the camp from either side. A thin, grey maned Khajjit man to his left, clad in fur armor and jewelry. A Breton girl, thick breasted and sporting a forest green cloak to hide her features. Two similar looking Imperial men In front of him. Short black hair and clad In Imperial armor. He turned back towards the Nord, who had sat on a log to his right, centimeters away from him.

"Hope you don't mind the company. Lone travelers like you roads must get awfully lonely." The Ironclad Nord spoke, followed by speech from his companions.

"And dangerous, a lot of bandits these days on Skyrims roads." The Breton butted in, hands raised against the warmth of the fire.

"Vampires. Werewolves. Daedra. Dragons. Guess you can count Orc's In that" The two Imperial added, speaking a word each before laughing at their last line.

"Stop pestering the man! Mojar thinks we should dig In If our host allows it?" The Khajjit peered curiously, hands over the pot of stew.

Tiaane watched the group curiously, all eyes flashing glances upon him as well as they awaited a response. One eye on his knapsack and the other upon the group.

"The pot is big enough. I'd be greedy If fate forbids me to share it with fellow travelers." Tiaane smiled gesturing for the group to help themselves as he swirled the wooden spoon around for one last step, catching a whiff of the aroma. Strong he thought, as his eyes watered.

The Khajjit hands grasped the spoon, only to be batted away by the Breton beside him. "We are guests to this campfire. It is fair only to allow our kind host the first mouthful" The Breton responded, spinning the spoon around in the pot towards Tiaane.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, the spoon raised to his lips as he took a large gulp. The taste was different from his recipe, he could taste it. Putting the spoon back Into the pot. He lowered his hood. Golden scales flashing against the fire.

"Nightshade and Spiddal stick. Not a bad taste I might add, as an Argonian I quite appreciate the odd poison here and there. Please, you must share with me your recipe's some time." Tiaane smiled, glancing at the Khajjit who, along with his companions failed to realize either that he was an Argonian or that poison was near useless.

Standing up, The Nord grinned. Hand clutching his blade. He held Tiaanes knapsack as he gestured his companions. "Well, we tried to do this the easy way. Hand over the goods scaleback, and the creepy staff you got too. Do that and we might leave you in peace to your stew ay?" The Nord looked cocky and bold, Tiaane had these strangers pegged for Bandits the moment they arrived. He saw the Khajjit sprinkle the poison into his stew when his hands got near. Smart, but not smart enough.

Tiaane looked up towards him and his companions. All clutching to their weapons like a newborn babe. "Take the knapsack. The staff and my other belongings are mine friend. I will not hand them over." Tiaane said sternly. The knapsack was replaceable, and not worth killing for. But, his staff and personal items, that was all destiny had left him with.

"Making demands now Scaleback? Their's five of us and one of you. For that, I think we'll have your robes too." The grinning Nord cockily ordered, blade half unsheathed as he peered closer to Tiaane.

Tiaane sighed, raising his hood. He knew how this was about to end. "Destiny would have had you encounter me tonight. Your fate has already been sealed, from your birth to this point now. May you find peace In the next life." Tiaane responded calmly, knocking the Nord back with his staff as he darted up from his seat.

A dagger flew towards him, released from the hands of the Khajjit. Tiaane ducked just in time, extended his arm straight towards the Khajjit who readied a lunge attack. Blood spurted everywhere as the sheathed dagger In Tiaanes sleeve hit the Khajjit square in the throat. Chocking on his blood as he collapsed towards the floor.

The Breton fired an Ice spike from her palm, as the two Imperials leaped to flank Tiaane with their swords raised.

The ice shattered, almost bouncing off Tiaane's ward. The clung of steel was hard, as Tiaane blocked blows with his staff's hilt. Luckily, he had more than one trick up his sleeve. Pushing the Imperial attack in front of him away with a hilt strike to the head. Just as the other rushed behind him for a counter-flank. Tiaane waved a fury spell at him with his free hand as he backstepped out of the way.

The Imperial Tiaane pushed away barely had time to react as his own ally cut him down where he stood. "Oh god... Brother!" The other screamed as he snapped out of Tiaane's spell. A sharp swing of his staff, Tiaane plunged the dagger on the other end into his chest. A loud thud as he collapsed into the fire.

"WHY WONT YOU DIE!" The Nord screamed, slashing a cut against Tiaane's back as he scrambled to defend himself against the blows. Magical shield raised, to block each swing as it slowly cracked. The sparks flew In the dark mist of the night as the Greatsword connected with Tiaane's hilt, pushing down against the Argonian with all his might as his teeth clenched.

Thinking fast, Tiaane slid his staff sideways against the greatsword. Head of the staff inches from the Nords face. Flicking it forward the familiar hue of a green fireball exploded in the Nords face. Scream's of pain as the Iron from his helm melted into his forehead.

Turning back he noticed the Breton looting the corpse's of her dead companions, darting off Into the shadow's as Tiaane turned his head. Honor among thieves? Typical. Tiaane caught his breath, addressing the wounds and scratches before anything else. He had contemplated chasing after the Breton, but he realized fate may have let her live for a reason beyond his doing.

"Please...the...pain..." Called a weak voice crawling into view once more. It was that of the Nord's, his face a smoking mess. Scorched beyond belief from the Iron melting into his forehead. Tiaane eyed him up, before reaching for the wooden spoon in the now lukewarm pot of stew. The fires of the camp had almost dimmed completely.

"Smells good? It's an old family recipe." The Argonian said, raising the spoon towards the Nords singed lips and helping him swallow in one big gulp. The poison the Khajjit had put in their was still potent, fate wouldn't have it kill him, but the Nord would be dead In minutes.

"Destiny. You are a strange mistress." Tiaane ended, waving his hand to extinguish the fire. Walking away into the night.

Where may Destiny take him next? Is anyone's guess.


	2. Full Metal Legion

The birds sang out in the air. Whistling calmly between the trees of the Imperial garden's. Beautiful, at least it was until the place was turned into a personal yard for the Legion.

"Attention!" The commander roared out, echoing across the gardens. Catching the attention of all the recruits facing him. Everyone's ear drums just took a trip to Oblivion as they rubbed their head's In unison staring at the furious looking commander.

Commander Manhart. The old Imperial was well known around these parts. Formerly decorated general and Legate, lead successful skirmish's In Black Marsh, Summerset Isles, and Skyrim. Even one to Coldharbour, explains the thick blue scar under the eyepatch of where his left eye used to be. They said many a story about the commander, but only one looked to be true... His voice could shout Dragon's out the sky.

"I ask for Legion material! And they send me what? a bunch of goat herders that would rather star at the pretty little butterflies then grab a sword. Well, by Molag Bal's cock! this is gonna be a fun week for you now isn't it!" The Commander roared, pacing up and down in the line. Fierery eye locked onto each recruit as he made his attitude known.

"Deadric prince of domination, our commander pledges his cock to thee" Bellowed a Breton recruit from the other end of the line. Grin masking his face.

"By the nine! We have ourselves a joker!" He shouted walking back up to the far end of the line. Gripping a Bosmer recruit by the collar.

"I bet it was you. Knife eared leaf-eating piece of goblin filth!" The Commander shouted, furious completely.

The wood elf shook frantically as everyone simply stared his way. The Breton beside him starting to look slightly nervous. "No i-i-it wasn't me Commander!"

"You make me sick! I've seen more meat on a Goblin's thigh then I've seen on you boy! Do you plan on hugging the waistline's o-"

 **"SIR!** * **cough* it was me, sir! I made the joke!"** The Breton nervously interrupted the commander during his rant at the Bosmer, who now looked relieved as Manhart dropped him down to come face to face with the cocky Breton.

Leaning almost kissing distance the Breton, his face was as red as Oblivion. "Well. About time you owned up! What's your name recruit?" Manhart watched closely, his good eye wide open.

"Sir! Davin Maledeth! Si-" The Breton wheezed as he dropped to his knees from a hard punch straight to the stomach. Manhart pulling his fist back into a sharp finger pointing at the recruit.

"Is my title sir or commander! Hm? got nothing to say, Jester. By Oblivion! I like that name! From now on I'm gonna call you Jester. Do you like that name recruit?" Manhart shouted, a cracked smile looking down at the Breton who was struggling to regain breath, winded and crawling beneath the commander's feet.

Coughing, the Breton looked up to final give a response. "* **Cough*** Yes Si-" He was silenced by a stiff boot to the chest from Manhart.

"I don't know what Spriggan sap you've been sucking over In Highrock, but you better check yourself you pompous slime! I am your commanding officer, not your 'sir' I ain't gonna read you no bedtime stories and give you a spoonful of moon sugar. When I give an order you follow it!" Manhart roared, forcing Jester up off the ground.

"Twenty laps around the garden Jester!" Manhart said sternly and with an authoritative tone.

The Breton stood dumbfounded for a moment, trying to fluster a response. "Bu-"

"TWENTY FIVE!" He roared cutting him off at every moment.

"But b-"

"THIRTY-FIVE!"

Knowing his place the Breton stopped before Manhart has him running to Oblivion and back to prove a point. Coughing as he began his endless laps in a circle around the Imperial gardens. Rest of the recruits staring intently, awaiting Manhurts next move. The old Imperial matching to stand in front of the recruits, arms folded behind his back.

"This will not be easy recruit's! I am not your friend! I am here to turn you Into Legion material. Whether you're a Jester or toothless thug, everyone has a place in our emperor's L..." Manhart rambled on giving a speech to the recruits about the legion. Most listened, well all but two.

The Nord girl tapped the black haired Imperial's shoulder next to her. She had already seen enough drilling and training from her own father. Practically ever Nord father is his own commander. Bored she looked to the Imperial who tilted his head slightly to face her.

On first glance, he was pretty good looking. For an Imperial at least. Hazel colored eyes, thin hooked nose, a medium length charcoal black ponytail. And those muscles, for someone what? seventeen eighteen, he was as toned as a Nord. At birth at least, they always come out fighting the males.

"I've seen this all before back In Skyrim. Every father act's like he's some commander, doesn't really scare, to be honest." She whispered attempting to spark a conversation with the Imperial to her right.

"It's all just standard procedure. He'll tone down in a few weeks. Though the shouting, that will never stop. But, being a Nord I imagine shouting is common tongue. I've heard the stories of Nordic family dinners enough know I can get my own salt." He whispered back jokingly.

She could hardly contain a laugh at his comments. Her father practically couldn't say hello to someone without shouting them to Sovengarde a moment later, and the snoring. That makes the Greybeards look like mutes. "Considering we will serving alongside each other, it's better you call me my name, instead of just 'Nord'. I'm Erikka Rambjorn." She whispered, almost gesturing a handshake by accident.

He stared for a moment before responding with a name of his own.

"Attrebus. Attrebus Mede."

She looked shocked at the reveal. That would make him brother to the Emperor! She tried to respond only for loud shouting of Manhart, dismissing the recruits as he finished his speech with the arrival of the young emperor, Titus Mede II himself. Glancing back and forth, this man's identity looked all but confirmed when the emperor called him over personally.

"Good to meet you Erikka. I look forward to serving beside you on the filed." Attrebus smiled and nodded before walking away.

This just got a whole lot more interesting for the recruits...


End file.
